Iridescence
by Aranea Porcus
Summary: The Trio go to Europe and look at flowers. Kuroh finds out that although Shiro has the label of a King who's devoid of any colour besides grey, he may not actually conform to that title after all. A oneshot. Edit: Credits to the picture inside.


**Edit: **

**Cover picture was found here: www. pixiv member_ ?mode=medium&illust_id=34833417 (just remove the spaces and stuff in a ".net" after pixiv). If anyone feels that it is inappropriate, I will take it down.**

**Enjoy!**

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Shiro had wanted to stop the airship for a bit at Holland - they had the best flowers, he had said - and he pestered Kuroh to touch down beside one of those extensive flower fields that Shiro really _really_ wanted to see, and when Kuroh opened the hatch so they could go out Shiro was the first to dash out and take in the sights and smells of the flowers that stretched out endlessly before him.

Kuroh followed after, grumbling about how it was such a huge detour and how they were completely put off schedule, but stopped in his tracks when he looked up and found himself surrounded by flowers that grew up to the middle of his shin. A breeze blew and the flowers bent where the currents of wind blew, bowing their crowns as if in reverence. Shiro stood further in front, his arms stretched out in an invisible embrace and his cumbersome red umbrella clutched in his right hand. Neko had already run off somewhere, probably giddy from the intense fragrance coming from the flowers.

"Isana..." Kuroh breathed, then called out abruptly, "Is this even legal?" Shiro looked back at Kuroh as if wondering sure he was there, then tilted his head, gave a mischievous grin and began to run out into the endless field, still holding the umbrella in his hand. "Isana!" Kuroh shouted in agitation - _How irresponsible!_ - and chased after him.

Kuroh ran until he lost Shiro altogether. The foolish boy had run off somewhere, away from Kuroh's watchful eye. Kuroh clicked his tongue, irritated, and his eyes searched the area for a mop of white hair. The sun was already beginning to set and the light glared in Kuroh's eyes. He put up an arm to shield his eyes from the light, and nearly jumped when someone pounced on his shoulders.

"Kuroh!" A familiar voice called out and the boy in question turned around, only to see his "charge", looking at him with a silly grin spread on his face.

"Isana..." Kuroh glowered. What's wrong with you?" He began an outburst of anger, and nudged Kotowari free from her hilt. Shiro held up his hands in a defensive stance and chuckled weakly.

"You were so busy looking for me - have you even seen the flowers yet?" Kuroh blinked in realisation and slid Kotowari back into her sheath with a click. Turning away from the light he saw that the sky was lit ablaze in a symphony of red and yellow. The flowers were red, yellow, blue and purple but they were of such a shocking number and brought about an equally shocking amount of colour that they seemed to meld and blend together till they were nothing more than vibrant splatters of bright paint against a canvas. Kuroh had never before seen anything so saturated in colour - the scene before him almost looked like something out of a movie.

Kuroh, as if noticing something, bent down and plucked a single tulip from its stalk. In his hand it seemed so delicate, so frail, but when Kuroh set his eyes upon the vast fields of red, blue, yellow, and purple he realised that he would never have thought that they were so easily cut down; surely such a great mass of flowers wouldn't be able to be destroyed like that, right?

Shiro laughed at Kuroh's stunned expression, his laughter a pleasant ring to Kuroh's ears. "You didn't notice! You really didn't notice!" Kuroh shot him a half-hearted glare and Shiro laughed some more, then reached out and let their fingers entwine for a bit in a bond between a King and his Clansman, between a Charge and his Caregiver, or simply between two friends who perhaps felt something much more.

The sunset was warm on Kuroh's cheek and the wind cool in his hair. He tried to look at Shiro, but it seemed that the colours of the field had already stained Kuroh's eyes, for he began to see the colour in every bit of Shiro - in the orange sunset against his delicate ivory hair, in the red of his umbrella, in the pink that tinged his cheeks, in the lavender of his shy glances, in the yellow of his laugh, in the whitewashed blue of his touch - and Kuroh loved it all.

**Imagine the flower fields in GoRa's art style. Ooooh, aaaaaaah. Anyway, I hope this was to your liking (I constantly seem to portray Shiro as this ethereal being orz), and do leave reviews! I absolutely love reading 'em. :**


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